Time to Rend and to Sew
by frosheify
Summary: Hermione goes back in time to try and stop Voldemort before he even enters Hogwarts but something rather unexpected happens instead.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 **

A/N Nothing belongs to me. This whole world is the fabulous JKR's.

This story is canon all the way up to the Deathly Hallows' final battle. Let's just assume that Harry decides not to come back but instead decides to join his parents and Dumbledore in the afterlife.

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Hermione squinted to see what Hagrid was holding. She heard cries around her as he came close enough to realise what was making the half-giant sob.

"Harry, oh no, Harry!" she cried out.

As Voldemort spoke, mocking them, she kept her eyes trained on Harry, hoping beyond reason that he would sit up, hold up his wand and end this once and for all.

Her hope was futile though. Harry was dead. His green eyes were dull and unseeing. Helplessness enveloped her as she realised what this meant. _Neither can live while the other survives_. Their final chance at ending the war was over, Voldemort had won. Around her, a battle had started. Her friends and class mates were falling all around her. She suddenly realised what she had to do. She started to run up the entrance of the castle. A red light came shooting towards her, missing her only by a few centimetres and hitting the stone behind her. She turned around quickly and without thinking she cried, "Sectumsempra!" Barely pausing to watch the effects of her curse, she dodged and weaved her way to Professor McGonagall's office.

Bodies littered her path but she forced herself to ignore them. She finally understood the descriptions of battles in the fictional books she had read as a child. She had always been in awe at the fictional heroes' ability to so quickly learn to stomach and adapt to the bloodshed that war brought. She was only seventeen and although she had always considered the last seven years as a type of training, nothing could have prepared her for the sheer terror of war. She had learnt to push down her fears and ignore the hysteria that always seemed to be bubbling under the surface. War wasn't like school, it was uncontrollable, irrational and it nothing could be relied on to go to plan.

This would be different though. Harry, Ron and her had spent the last twelve months trying to destroy parts of Voldemort that had already been created. But what if one could simply go back in time, stop things at the source? It was risky, she knew that. Sometimes, as she tried to fall asleep in the tent in the middle of nowhere, she'd contemplate this as an option but she always discarded it. She knew enough magical lore to know that time travel was far too risky and volatile. That using a time turner for any time period over twenty-four hours was unpredictable. That she could _die _if she was spat out at the wrong time. But what other choice did she have now? She would die if she stayed here anyway. They all would. Harry already had.

McGonagall's office was unlocked. With all the commotion, she must have left in a hurry. Hermione knew exactly where the time turner was kept. At the end of her third year she had witnessed her transfiguration teacher place it back in the fourth drawer at her oak desk. She hoped fervently that the Ministry hadn't asked for it back after they destroyed the rest during their break-in their fifth year.

With frantic, trembling hands, she rifled through the drawer. Countless mementos and small magical curios she ordinarily would have loved to examine were shoved to the side unceremoniously. A glint of gold shimmered.

"Yes," she breathed, relief enveloping her.

She calculated quickly in her head. She would have to go back before Voldemort's first year. Before he ever came to Hogwarts and learnt of his magical heritage. She would go and find him at the orphanage. She would find him and she would kill him.

Hermione placed the time turner around her neck. In the distance she could still hear the noise of battle. She thought briefly of going back and trying to find Ron but quickly dissuaded herself of the risk. She could be killed trying to find him in the chaos.

"This is it," she said softly to herself, clutching it firmly now, "there's no turning back now." She took a deep breath, purposely drawing out the moment. She began to turn back the dial.

Almost immediately she felt a strong tug at her stomach and she witnessed years of activity in the Gryffindor head of house's office. McGonagall, Dumbledore and countless students entered and left.

The room slowed down...

Hermione fell to her knees. She was alone in the room. She cast a quick tempus charm to learn the time and date.

5:38 pm. 28th August, 1945.

"Oh crap," The time turner had thrown her back eight years later. This was Voldemort's seventh year at Hogwarts.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Hermione stood there staring at the glowing numbers and letters of the tempus charm until it began to fade. Still in a daze, she walked over to the plush red chair in front of the desk and sat down heavily. She knew that time turners could be versatile but she had hoped that if things went wrong it would throw her even further back, not forwards. By now Voldemort had already discovered his heritage. He knew he was the heir of Slytherin.

"Oh Merlin," she gasped softly, "he's already a murderer!"

Moaning Myrtle was already dead, his father was already dead and by now he had already begun to amass a following. Things had all gone completely pear shaped. Voldemort was already powerful, he already had followers in Hogwarts looking out for him. The risks involved with killing him had just risen exponentially.

She forced herself to take a few deep breaths. "You're Hermione Granger," she reminded herself determinedly, "you helped figure out how to find and kill Voldemort's horcruxes, you broke into the Gringotts, you can do this."

Dumbledore. She needed to speak to Dumbledore. She took it from the glimpses of time she witnessed as she turned backwards that this office had always been the Head of Gryffindor's. It was only a few days before school resumed so he must already be in the castle. She would just wait here for him to return to his office. It was far too risky for her to venture out of it. She would attract too many questions and probably be hauled into Headmaster Dippet's office before her and Dumblefore could come up with a plan.

In an effort to calm her pounding heart she looked around Dumbledore's office. She recognised a few of the artefacts decorating the cabinets on his walls from his Headmaster's office in the future. She felt herself starting to relax as she took in and relished in the familiarity. She even smiled a little as she noticed there was a box of lemon drops on his desk. He always had a sweet tooth then.

She bit her lip in concern as she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of one of the cabinet's glass doors. Almost a year of living in tents and foraging for food in forests had left her clothing in terrible shape. She still had in her pocket the beaded bag that contained all of her, Harry and Ron's most important possessions. She knew, however, that everything in the bag was in even worse shape. There were only so many times one could cast a reparo on the same rips and tears in a pair of jeans.

She cast a quick scourgify on her face and tried to comb her fingers through her hair in an effort to tidy it a little bit. As usual, it was being thoroughly uncooperative. She was just about to try and find a hair tie in her bag when suddenly the door burst open.

There, standing in the doorway was a much younger and very much alive Albus Dumbledore and a man with long white hair she assumed was Dippet.

Hermione panicked and did the only thing she could think of, "Father!" she cried out enthusiastically and threw her arms around Dumbledore in a hug. She stepped back a moment and opening her brown eyes wide she gazed directly into his blue ones, imploring him to use legilimancy.

As she felt his presence enter her mind she quickly brought an image of him as headmaster during her school years to the forefront. Then, in complete desperation, she shouted the same three sentences over and over in her mind.

"I'm one of your students from the future! This is important! Please go along with this, I'll explain everything once we're alone!"

Comprehension flashed quickly in Dumblefore's eyes and his face filled with warmth as he said, "My dear! I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow!"

Relief flooded through Hermione. He was going along with it. He wouldn't giver her away.

Dippet glanced between the two, confusion clearly evident on his face, "Your _daughter_, Albus? Did I hear that correctly?"

Dumbledore chuckled and patted Hermione on the shoulder. "Yes, Armando. My daughter."

Hermione thought briefly of Fleur and of Beauxbatons before looking up at the headmaster and looking up at Dippet she smiled demurely and said with a slight lilt to her voice, "My mother is French and so being educated at Beauxbatons I could only see my father during holidays."

She watched Dippet carefully for his reaction.

The confusion abated a little on his face and he looked at Dumbledore almost calculatingly, "I say, Albus, you've really rather a cad aren't you! Are you married to..." he paused as he glanced at Hermione, realising that he didn't know her name.

"Hermione," she quickly supplied, "Hermione LeMarchal Dumbledore."

Dumbledore chuckled again and said, "No, no, not married, Armando. But Hermione is still my very dear daughter."

"I see. Well I'll leave you two to catch up. I'm relieved that there wasn't a more sinister reason for the disturbance in your wards."

"Indeed," Dumbledore serenely, "thank you, Headmaster."

Dippet left the room, glancing backwards one last time as though to make sure he hadn't imagined her presence.

When they were left alone, Dumbledore's entire demeanor had changed and with his eyes staring piercingly into hers, he said, "Let's sit down, have a cup of tea and you can tell me everything, alright, Miss LeMarchal?"

Hermione nodded and fighting her exhaustion, sat down and readied herself for her story.

"First of all, my name isn't LeMarchal. It's Granger, Hermione Granger and I'm from over fifty years into the future."

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A/N Thanks for the reviews for Chapter 1. I really appreciated them :)

I know it's rather a long shot that people would believe that Dumbledore has an unknown daughter but I've read so many fanfictions where Hermione masquerades as his niece that I thought it would be fun to change things up a bit and really raise the stakes in Hermione's foray into time travel.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Simply put, after the year that Hermione had experienced, sitting in McGonagall's office with a much younger Albus Dumbledore and drinking a comforting cup of tea was surreal.

Living on the run, fighting death eaters, destroying horcruxes and watching her best friend die had left her with a bone deep weariness. The prospect of stopping all of the destruction that she had witnessed was tantalising close... She had only to confide in Dumbledore and her heavy burden would be halved.

"I'm from over fifty years in the future," Hermione began, almost cautiously, as though testing the waters for his reaction.

Dumbledore was remarkably blasé in his reaction. He gazed at her thoughtfully, then, stirring another spoonful of sugar into his tea, asked, "And may I ask what it was that motivated you to make this cosmic leap backwards in time? You must know, my dear, how very dangerous what you have done is?"

She sighed, "I know but there was no other choice. You see, in my time we have been fighting an intermittent war with the most dangerous dark wizard in history. There was a prophecy made that dictated that only on person could kill him..." she paused, faltering slightly before continuing, "My best friend. He died just before I came. The wizarding world was in ruins. We were teetering on the edge of being discovered by the muggle world and the destruction that this knowledge would have caused... is incalculable."

Every word she spoke made her more and more aware of how huge a change she would hopefully be making in the future.

"So you see, don't you, why I _had_ to come. Why I had to stop all of this from happening?"

Dumbledore adjusted his glasses with slightly trembling fingers. Hermione could see that what she had told him had truly shocked him. She braced himself for his response as he registered what she had told him.

Almost unsteadily he looked at her and asked, "The dark lord you speak of, is it still Grindelwald?"

Hermione remembered with a jolt Rita Skeeter's poisonous book about the life of Dumbledore. She felt conflicted over telling him that he would be the one to defeat his former friend. How much of the non-Voldemort related future should she even be changing? She decided to simply be honest without telling him any details.

Hermione shook her head, "No, Headmaster. Grindelwald will be defeated. Our dark lord is far worse than Grindelwald could ever dream to be."

He barely had time to digest the epithet of 'headmaster' that she had used before she asked him to see what she meant using legilimancy.

Their eyes connected across the large desk. Hermione pushed forward flashes of memories.

Her heart clenched as they both relived some of her most painful memories; their visit to the ministry with the Muggle-born registration, wearing and destroying horcruxes, being caught by the Snatchers, tortured by Bellatrix, the prisoners in the Malfoy dungeons, Harry being cradled in Hagrid's arms as Voldemort laughed and finally, the carnage that erupted in the wake of Harry's death.

She began to cry softly as the last images of a destroyed Hogwarts faded receded further back into her mind.

Dumbledore reached across the desk and held Hermione's hand in his and said gently, "My dear, my dear child, I can scarcely believe what I have just seen. You have seen and borne the worst that any person can ever experience. I can understand why you have come back. We cannot allow events to repeat themselves," he paused before fixing her with a thoughtful stare, "Did I hear your friend refer to this dark lord as Riddle?"

Under Dumbledore's soothing touch she had felt her pain abate a little. She had recovered enough to single handedly wipe away her tears and it was with a remarkable steady voice that she responded tightly, "Yes. His name is Tom Riddle."

Silence.

Finally, he spoke, "We must exercise the greatest of caution. From your memories it appears that he has already made two horcruxes. One from his father and one from poor Myrtle. Their hiding places would be different to what they were in your time."

Hermione groaned softly and in a self chastising tone she said, "I hadn't even considered that! I had meant to come further back before he had even started Hogwarts to avoid all of these complications."

"Not a surprising side effect of time turner travel but perhaps it knew you better than you even knew yourself," he responded with a cryptic half smile.

"Professor?"  
"Do you really think that you could have killed a child in an orphanage before he had even committed the atrocities of an adult? My dear, I saw your memories. You friend Harry is much like Tom Riddle is he not?"

She snapped back, "Harry is _nothing_ like Voldemort!"

"No, you misunderstand me. His circumstances are similar and I fear that those reminders would have halted your plan."

Hermione allowed what he had to sink in for a moment before reluctantly realising the truth of it. Deep down in her heart she knew that she would never be able to kill a child for crimes he had not yet committed. Hermione marvelled at Dumbledore's ability to read her after knowing her such a short time.

"I see that you have always been like this then," she responded after the lull in their conversation.

He smiled at her, "Like what, Miss Granger?"

She shook her head, smiling back at him, "Never mind. So what should we do?"

Dumbedore responded almost instantly, "You, my dear daughter, will be enrolling at Hogwarts and we will _safely_ find a way for you to discover the location of his horcruxes and then put an end to Tom Riddle before he has the chance to destroy the world."

For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger felt pure dread at the thought of going back to school.

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A/N I know that Voldemort graduated in 1945 and from what I have always gaged from the books, Grindelwald seems to have been defeated that year too. The school year would have run from September 1944 - June 1945. I'm assuming that since the war with Grindelwald ran paralel with WWII that Grindelwald was defeated by Dumbledore when Hitler was, April 1945 - during Voldemort's final school year (This will significant as the story progresses). All this basically means that the threat of Grindelwald is very near then and that the idea of a much, much worse dark lord is a very frightening concept to Dumbledore.

I love reviews, especially constructive ones. Thanks :)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Hermione's mind began whirling with problems and questions. _How would they discover the horcruxes' locations? Would she have to try and befriend Voldemort? Would she have to try and become a death eater? Could she slip him some veritaserum, ask him and then obliviate him?_

Dumbledore coughed slightly, interrupting her inner train of thought, "Miss Granger, or should I say, Miss Dumbledore, since I met Tom Riddle at the age of eleven, I have always suspected that there was a... potential for something... dark in him. Consequently, I have always kept my eye on him. There are few things that can endear one to him but I believe that we can orchestrate it so that he becomes interested enough in you so that he lets his guard down a little."

"Orchestrate? Do you mean that we try and make me as interesting as possible so as to make him curious?"

He nodded approvingly at her, "Precisely, my dear. I must say, you're very fast. However we won't simply make you interesting, we will need to make you as _mysterious_ as we possibly can. You see, Mr Riddle has always had a thirst for knowledge and if you come across as having some sort of use to him and the cause he is building, we will have an opening to his trust."

Hermione marvelled at Dumbledore's cunning, "Are you sure that you weren't a Slytherin, Sir?"

He laughed softly, "No and I must say, I was shocked to see the amount of prejudice against Slytherin house in your time. There has always been a form of wariness among the other houses of them but never to the extent that I witnessed in your mind."

She nodded, "I always nagged my friends to read _Hogwarts: A History_ so that they could realise that Slytherin's reputation was a more recent manifestation. Just one more thing that we have to thank Voldemort for," she spat out bitterly. Harry would never read anything again. Never again would she be able to nag him about finishing his homework or about playing quidditch less.

Dumbledore stood up and walked around the side of his desk and leaning over a large chest that sat next to it, he whispered an incantation which popped the lid open. After a few moments of searching he let out a noise of approval and straightened up holding a necklace in his hand.

"This is a necklace that has been passed down for hundreds of years. It has always been worn by Dumbledore women. If you wear this around your neck anyone will instantly recognise your position as my daughter and as my heir."

Hermione was incredibly reluctant to take the necklace. She really hadn't' thought through her plan to masquerade as his daughter. In fact, it had simply slipped out in a moment of panic. It wasn't until now that she realised the extent to which she would be disrupting his life. If she remained in this timeline, she would forever be known as his daughter and he would forever be remembered as having an illegitimate daughter who was unknown to the world until she was seventeen.

Dumbledore must have noticed her discomfort because he quickly sought to reassure her, "You have made an incredibly brave decision to leave your world behind and come here to change it. A slight tarnish on my reputation is truly incomparable to your sacrifice. In fact," he chuckled slightly before continuing, "I'm rather looking forward to the reactions that this will cause."

It was impossible not to smile back at him. She grudgingly held out her hand for the necklace.

As it touched the skin of her palm the entire room filled with a pure, golden light and she felt tingles descend from her hand and through the rest of her body.

"What-what was that?" she gasped, still reeling from the sensation.

"Hmm," he commented, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "the necklace recognised you as my daughter."

"Your _daughter? _How is that possible?"

"Sometimes if a wizarding family has no heir they choose to adopt a suitable one to fill that place not just as their financial beneficiary but as their magical beneficiary too. The traits and talents of that particular blood line are bestowed upon the adoptee. The necklace knew that I have no blood children and it recognised you as a deserving heir."

Hermione was reeling from this news, "So does this mean that I'm actually a Dumbledore now? Wait, kind of traits do you mean?"

"Yes. Your magical name is now Hermione Dumbledore and my dear, from what I witnessed in your mind, I am sure that I could not find a more incredible young woman if I tried. The necklace realised this."

A strange warmth came over Hermione and settled in the pit of her stomach. She hadn't felt this kind of paternal approval or affection since she had wiped her parent's memories and made them forget that they ever even had a daughter. She realised with a pang that they hadn't even been born yet.

She tuned back into Dumbledore's explanation of inherited traits.

"Familial traits can be anything. For example, the Gaunt family passes down parseltongue. A bloodline descended from a veela may pass down not only exceptional beauty but also the ability to charm and manipulate with great ease. Now in my family we have the useful trait of all being natural occlumens."

_Natural occlumens_. She let the significance of what he had just said wash over her. She had been trying to learn occumancy from an obscure book she had ordered from Flourish and Botts ever since Harry had begun trying to learn it in fifth year. She had done better at it than Harry had but she certainly would never have been able to stop Voldemort if he decided that there was something in her mind worth discovering.

She realised something with a jolt, "You _knew_ that was going to happen didn't you!"

He nodded, "I suspected it, yes. Tom Riddle is already a brilliant legilimens and if your plan to pique his interest is to work he would have found you out instantly. Your ability at occlumency and legilimancy will only serve to fascinate him more."

"That makes sense. I've been mulling things over in the back of my head and I've thought of what we should tell the school about my sudden transferral."

"What would that be?"

"Nothing at all. We have Headmaster Dippet simply announce that Hermione Dumbledore has transferred here for her final year. Then, whenever people try and question me about my life or my past, I should simply drop hints that I've somehow been involved in the war with Grindelwald. It's almost true, too. If Voldemort thinks that I'm powerful enough to be fighter against the current dark lord then he's sure to want me on his side. Not to mention, and no offence meant, I'm sure that he would love nothing more than to swoop in and convert your daughter to his side."

Dumbledore responded slowly, "Yes, you're right. Unfortunately there is simply no way to guess what will happen and so we will have to plan the rest as events unfold. You must remember though, to start thinking of him as Tom Riddle now. Slipping up and calling him Voldemort would be disastrous."

"Tom," she sounded out slowly, "Tom Riddle, I'll be seeing you very soon."

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A/N I realise that Salazar Slytherin building a secret dungeon that housed a basilisk is a pretty strong argument that Slytherins have always been marginalised as prejudiced. However, I prefer to believe that it's not so black and white. If we look at the context of Hogwarts' founding, it was in a time when witch hunts were rampant. Let's get real, if your friends and family are being burnt on the stake (and they don't happen to have a wand on them to save themselves) then you're going to be pretty against including muggleborns and thus spreading the knowledge among their families that magic really does exist. I do think that people from other houses would have been sympathetic towards this view. Human beings do have a bit of a nasty habit of destroying that which we don't understand...

Thanks for the reviews everyone, it's always very encouraging when I get a review email from :)

Coming up in Chapter 5: September 1st is here and that means that our heroine lays eyes on her target for the first time.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

If Hermione told Harry or Ron that she had spent the few days before September 1st studying like crazy, they definitely would not have been surprised. This was different though. She wasn't studying out of an almost pathological need to place fist in the upcoming year. She was studying because there were many marked differences between her time and now...her survival depended on her learning these differences.

Imagine if she were asked the uses of dragon blood and she answered all twelve when Dumbledore and Flamel had not even come across them yet? Or if she threw up the proto variation of _protego_ in defence class when Yuki Marioka had not even invented the spell yet? Or worse, she accidentally revealed her muggle origin by being ignorant in pureblood customs?

This was the 40's after all. Pureblood customs may have seemed old fashioned to Hermione in her time but she hadn't realised how much had gone out of practice the past few decades. In 1945 arranged marriages were still the norm and most of the purebloods in her classes would already be betrothed and ready for marriage after their graduation.

So instead of spending her time in the library researching magical theories and spells listed in her curriculums, she found herself hunched over pureblood etiquette books making copious notes.

The thought that she could give herself away by merely greeting someone wrongly was reducing her into a puddle of nerves.

Hermione found herself reaching for the necklace around her neck. There was something comforting about it. It felt light and cool between her fingers and looking down, she admired the glittering rubies that formed a regal type of celtic knot encrusted with solid gold. She had never owned anything so valuable or so beautiful before.

On the back of the necklace was a small carving that indicated that the necklace was first worn back in 1284. Hermione wondered who had inherited the necklace after Dumbledore's death back in her time.

A knock on the door at the library's entrance shook her out of her reverie.

Dumbledore smiled gently at her, donned in midnight blue robes.

"It's time, Hermione."

She nodded erratically and muttered a quick spell to return the books to their rightful place on the shelves.

As she stood up, she anxiously patted the wrinkles gathered on her black school robes, not yet adorned with house colours. The robes were different in this time. Instead of the sack-like shape that both boys and girls wore, hers subtly hinted at her feminine shape. Trousers weren't permitted for girls and so she was forced to wear the pleated black skirt that fell to her knees. At least the colour on her collar would soon be that familiar red again.

She felt comforted at the thought of Gryffindor Tower. She knew from _Hogwarts: A History_ that the layout and furniture of the common room would be much the same. There was nothing more cosy and welcoming than the tower and she could not wait to return.

As they made their way to the Great Hall, Dumbledore kept a running commentary, "You may sit at the teacher's table until sorting. You'll be sorted after the first years," his face suddenly turned serious and he lowered his voice, "Before we enter, I must emphasise something to you. However tempted you may be to ask the hat to put you in Gryffindor, you must not interfere. The hat will know what is in your heart and it will know which house will most help you fulfil your goals."

Hermione stopped dead. "I'm sorry but you cannot be serious! The hat wanted to sort Harry into Slytherin! Imagine what would have happened if he had simply let it!"

Dumbledore frowned slightly, "From what we spoke of I was under the impression that you did not harbour prejudice..."

She sighed, "I don't. I just... I just miss Harry and Ron so much and I suppose that if I were back in Gryffindor Tower I would somehow feel closer to them."

They happened to be standing by the house hourglasses in the entrance hall. In the corner of her eye she couldn't help but notice Slytherin's emeralds glittering in the light of the flaming torches. The torches happened to be hitting Slytherin's hourglass in a way that made little green patterns dance on the stone walls.

As she lay in bed later that night she found herself thinking of that moment as an ominous symbol of what was to come.

Dumbledore patted her arm kindly and said, "I understand, my dear. I think what is making you so reluctant is that you know that the easiest way to access Riddle would be for you to be a Slytherin."

She nodded, "I know," and after a pause she admitted quietly, "I'm scared."

To her surprise she was suddenly swept into a gentle hug, her head pressed against Dumbledore's midnight blue chest. She allowed herself to lean against him and couldn't help but relish in the paternal comfort that he offered her.

When she was a child she used to sit on her father's lap and lean on his chest to feel the vibrations rumble through him as he read interesting parts of the newspaper aloud to her mother.

She felt a twinge in her heart as began to speak, "You have shown the greatest courage in what you have come here to do. Never, ever doubt yourself or your abilities, my dear."

He moved backwards, so that she could see the sincerity in his face, "I saw enough in your memories to know that I never will."

Warmth seeped through her.

"Thank you."

He nodded at her and with a hand on her shoulder, he led her into the Great Hall.

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Sitting at the high table with the other professors, Hermione felt as though she were in a dream. In the background she could hear voices and footsteps as the students came closer and closer to the hall. With Dumbledore outside, ready to perform the duties that McGonagall used to, she was forced to make small talk with Professor Gladwick who taught history of magic.

"I'm sure she'll be a Gryffindor," he claimed boisterously to potions professor Morgana Mettleborn, "Well, what say you, Miss Dumbledore?"

She forced a light hearted chuckle, "Oh, father and I are quite different. I'm hoping for Ravenclaw really."

In her original timeline the hat wanted to sort her into Ravenclaw.

As the head of Ravenclaw Gladwick puffed his chest out a little at this, "Ahh yes, well I do believe that there was a Dumbledore in Ravenclaw around a hundred years ago. Gladius Dumbledore. An accomplished potions master if I'm not mistaken! The exception to the rule really, the rest of the Dumbledores have been Gryffindor through and through!"

Hermione made the appropriate noises and before he could ask her another question, the first of the students started streaming through the entrance.

Her whole body tensed up as she surreptitiously scanned the incoming students for Tom Riddle.

_There. _Surrounded by five other male students in black and green robes, he was walking to the Slytherin table. She couldn't see his face, only his back but she knew from the way he walked that it was him. Even as he looked in her time, there was something about the way he walked that remained the same... a sort of careless grace.

As though he could feel himself being watched, he suddenly turned to look at the head table.

To Hermione's horror, their eyes met across the sea of people. A curious sort of frisson came over her as she stared into the eyes of a soon to be dark lord. After a brief up and down look, he nodded at her before turning his attention back to his fellow house mates.

She let out a breath she hadn't know she'd been holding in. The most evil dark lord in recorded history had just walked into the great hall, already noticed her gaze and had just sat down.

"_Oh Merlin, what am I doing?_" she thought to herself painfully.

All of the students were seated before Dumbledore entered the room with the first years following him in a line. They all shared the same anxious looks.

Their sorting was a blur. She mechanically clapped for each house and it was only after Dumbledore had sat down next to her that she noticed Dippet standing at the podium already speaking.

"...Professor Dumbledore's...", he coughed slightly, "daughter, Hermione LeMarchal Dumbledore."

A deafening silence greeted his pronouncement and Hermione frowned inwardly as she made her way over to the stool. Hadn't Dumbledore expressed to him not to mention their relation yet?

She looked sightlessly over the heads of the students as the hat was placed over her head.

"Ahhh, Miss Granger, I have been waiting for a very long time..."

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A/N Thanks for the reviews everyone :) They encourage me to keep posting! :)

Coming up, why has the sorting hat been waiting for Hermione? Which house is she sorted in and first words are exchanged between Hermy and Tom?


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